


Still here

by cloudylane



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Somewhere between Bromance and slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:18:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3305420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudylane/pseuds/cloudylane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sergio and James after the match against Sevilla</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still here

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, 
> 
> okay so I really meant to continue my ongoing projects and this is wired   
> I am not even sure how I feel about this pairing, but after the game against Sevilla   
> the urge to write this just came over me...  
> And yes I am aware that no doctor would ever condone Sergios actions after the injury  
> he suffered but lets file that under literary freedom, okay? ;-)
> 
> So I'll let you decide what you make of this.
> 
> Have fun reading =)

It was eerily quiet in the dressing-room, after the noise out on the pitch and the usual ruckus they made in here. Even his own steady breathing, measured, right into the pain, seemed loud right now. He would rather have stayed on the bench, yes it was horrible to watch helplessly but being confined down here was much worse. But with the derby looming the staff obviously wanted to examine him as soon as possible. So he acted against his nature and did the responsible thing, though he knew from the way his leg felt and from their physio’s face that it wasn’t good. He still would love to know how bad exactly but of course now he was down here, everyone had disappeared. Fucking great. He debated limping to his locker to get his phone but he could probably hear a goal for Real from here.

The doc had told him to sit tight after all and while following orders wasn’t always easy for him, he had learned to trust the medical staff over the years. It was hardly a choice really trusting them and sticking to their advice was part of keeping his career alive and well. Finally Footsteps. Though instead of  Jesus it was James limping into the room, Giovanni by his side helping him along. Fuck. That couldn’t be? What the hell was happening out there?! He was going to go back out and kick some ass. Right now. „Guess I missed you out there…“ James attempt at a joke is rotten, his smile feeble,  his bottom lip won’t stop quivering. This is bad. No horrible. He was neither a doctor nor a mindreader but he didn’t have to be. One proper look at James was enough, the way he his barely put any weight on his right foot, clearly struggling against the pain whenever it touched the ground, his glassy eyes. How he fought so hard to look okay. Quickly he scrambled onto his feet, he couldn’t care less about his stupid hamstring right now. „Come here..“ James needed to be in his arms.

Thankfully Giovanni didn’t argue but simply let go of the Colombian once he had wrapped his arms securely around him. With a nod and a slight smile their fitness-coach left, presumably to fetch the medical team. He returned the nod and just tightened his arms around James small frame, he felt almost limp in his arms, breath coming out in unsteady little puffs. „Your…leg“ he mumbled somewhere against his chest making a feeble attempt to free himself. „Lets sit down…“ Yes having him on his  lap more than likely wasn’t the best idea either, but he couldn’t let go. Not right now, not when James despite trying to move away buried an hand in his hair, clinging onto his shirt with the other, like he just needed something, someone to hold onto. He couldn’t deny him that, yes he may have stuck to a hug and a few comforting words with someone else, but not with James. Their (his) little Colombian sunshine. It takes a few minutes until he’s settled him onto his lap and it’s pointless, the doctors will be here any minute. But James snuggled so close, it felt like he was trying to hide, flee, against his chest. „It’s probably broken..“ He whispered, a broken, chocked up heart-breaking sound. The rage boiled up again, because it just wasn’t fair. James shouldn’t hurt like this, he fought so hard but so, so fairly, with so much joy for the game, for this, for their team. Some that had stayed for years never got there but James was a Madrista, and he would always protect his own.

Actually he would have protected James in any case but those emotions, were out of place right now. He just pressed a soft kiss onto his neck, running a hand through his hair. They were probably things that protocol would have him say, ‚It will be okay, just listen to everything the doctors say‘ ‚Don’t worry you’ll be back before you know it‘ But no words could really mean anything right now. Nothing he could say would make this any less fucked-up, would glue James bones back together. All he could do was hold him and maybe…just maybe lessen the emotional pain a little. „I’ll be there, no matter what it takes, okay?“ It might be just as tired and pointless but it is the only thing he could promise right now with absolute certainty. James lifts his head a little flashing him a smile, shaky, a ghost of his usual blinding beam, but so genuine his insides turn molten. „Thank you“ He just shook his head slightly, there was nothing to be thankful for. He is about to pull James closer again when he heard a footsteps in the corridor. Silently they disentangle themselves from each other, James settling down on the bench next him him. Its Jesus, along with two of their physiotherapists. „We’re taking you to the hospital right now, okay? They’ll do some scans and then we’ll discuss the options..“ James just nods allowing the doctor to help him up. 

„Where are you taking him? Santias?“ Its a stupid question really, of course they’ll go to the team-hospital. „Yes, you’ll have a check up tomorrow and possibly a scan on friday to see how sever the damage is“ Juan obviously interprets his question as some attempt to get his attention. „I’ll come with you, James doesn’t need to be alone right now“ It’s a spur of the moments idea and probably useless since he wouldn’t be allowed into the examination room anyway. But leaving James now, feels all wrong. The Colombian looks like he is about to argue that he should go home and rest. „Okay, come on then“ But Jesus beats him, seemingly seeing no problem, or maybe he just knew it would be futile to argue. Although their doctor practically pushes James out of the door obviously in a hurry, he took the time to grab James bag, the younger man shouldn't have to stay in his clammy kit all evening. Besides he probably wanted his phone to call his mother. It was pretty well known how close they were. Actually he should check his own phone, his family had surely caught the game as well. Thankfully Jesus had enough patience to wait an allowed him to slip into the backseat next to James. „You should think about yourself, you need to rest your leg…and I’m fine“ James argues predictably once they were both inside the car. Of course he would sit here with a broken foot and worry about his hamstring. It was stupid, even naive, one needed to be an egoist in this business, it was a matter of self-perseverance but James concern still warmed his heart. „I’m good, right here“ It was too much, too big of an admission.

But pretending he would do this for anyone felt like a betrayal. James deserved honesty even if he had no idea what to do with his own feelings. James sighs but there was a hint of a smile as he rested his head against his shoulder. He doesn’t let go of him until the nurse arrives the take James into the examination room and has to stop himself from trying to sneak in. But even he isn’t that irresponsible, so he just gently ruffles James hair, flashing him the most encouraging smile he can muster. Maybe just maybe there was a chance that the results would be better than expected. He just had to cling to the hope that James would be back soon, with his sweet hugs, that glacier-melting smile, the way he worked so, so hard but still had time for everyone…They’d spend nighttime journeys home talking in low voices, while Isco and Iker slumbered beside them. He could never sleep after a game and there was only so much music one could listen to, besides he enjoyed their conversations, speaking to James wether it was about their favorite hometown foods or how to deal with the ever-present fear of failing always felt intimate and strangely limitless. Liberating even. Maybe because he had been here so long now that everyone had him and his role in the team, the naughty cop to Ikers responsible cop,  figured out, even new players tended to expect him to be the one to show them around Madrids best bars, not that he minded that the slightest. It still felt good that James never tried to pin him down, that no thought ever felt too ridiculous to tell him. He was so engrossed in staring at the frankly hideous green door, he only noticed his ringing phone when a passing nurse alerted him to it. Iker, of course. „Hey captain“ The game couldn’t have been over for more than a few minutes. „Where are you?“ Sometimes it was hard to believe Iker wasn’t his actual father. „At the hospital with James“ Silence. Iker apparently needed some time to process this information and decide what to do with it. „Sese…what are you doing there? He winced slightly he knew that tone, it meant Iker was about to give him a lecture. „I couldn’t just leave him alone, could I?“

Not a very valid argument considering James was surrounded by people. „Sergio…He’s practically a kid and  your teammate“ „I’m not about to do anything other than just being a friend“ He wasn’t, he didn’t even know what exactly he would want to do. Right now, he just wanted to hold him and protect him from the world. „Right…“ Great to know how much Iker trusted him. „What?“ He couldn’t help sounding slightly irritable. „I know you Sergio and I can sense when you are about to do something stupid“ Actually this was probably true at least on the pitch, Iker often knew when his impulsive nature was about to get the better of him. „Do you really think I would mess with James right now? Really?“ Iker acted as if he regularly seduced vulnerable teammates. „Of course not…Just don’t get too involved, thats all“ Well it was probably to late for that, but thanks for the reminder. „Don’t worry, I’m just making sure he’s okay“  The last thing he wanted to do was discuss this with Iker, the older man would only prod until he told him things he never intended to say out loud. „Okay…well, we’ll talk tomorrow, take care of your leg at least…“ „I will…see you tomorrow“  At least he understood that he was in no mood to talk right now, Although would have been a way to pass the time. How long could it fucking take to get those X-Rays done?!

James had been in there for hours. His body was starting a very painful revolt against him when finally the door opened and the doctors emerged. „You are welcome to see Mr Rodríguez now, he’s been discharged..“ He was about to ask them what exactly that meant but they were already rushing down the corridor in deep conversation. James was sitting on a chair in the corner his injured foot on a little stool. „They said I should go home, they’ll do the operation tomorrow…In Murcia“ He sounds collected, his tone flat, void of emotion but his face betrayed all his efforts. „I’ll help you change and then we’ll go home“ Sometimes it’s best to focus on the practicalities. James needed to get into something warm and comfortable. The Colombian just nodded, going through the motions slowly as if it was an effort to even lift his arms. No wonder, nothing quite sucked the energy out of you like a serious injury. It just should be awkward really, strange even, to hold him securely around his waist while pulling  down his shorts. The way he leans against him, so ready to trust him with all his fears and vulnerabilities is heartwarming and scary. The walk to the exit is silent, James is tense and focused on dealing with his crutches, every footballer hates all walking-aids with a passion, thats just a fact of life. The nurses clustered around them reminding both of them what they should and should not do, to call immediately if anything was wrong, adding all the vaguely appropriate well-wishes they could think of. The driver in contrast said very little, efficiently weaving through traffic and dropping both of them off at James house without any questions. James is more than likely just too exhausted to argue. He is kicking the thought that he may want his company straight out of his mind again. He is too tiered, too frightened and alone right now, to know what he wants.

„Do you…want some food? I think I could make pasta…or something?“  It endearing really how he straightens himself up, trying to appear ready to take care of him, like he needed to pay him back somehow. „James, I’d love for you to cook for me sometime but right now we both need to rest, lets just order something, okay?“ he cupped James face lightly, running thumb along his cheekbone. He looked so lost that he almost wanted to change his mind, he knew how comforting it could be just to do something with your hands. But a degree of responsibility was necessary tonight. James leans into your touch closes his eyes and just nods. „I’ll eat whatever..“ 

That probably means he’ll push whatever you’re getting him around on his plate. He hardly seems the type to pig out in a crisis. When you finally do settle down on his bed, you are pretty sure the sigh of relief coming from your hamstring is loud enough to be heard over the television. Of course James has provided a mountain of pillows so you can get comfortable and left some painkillers and a cooling-cream on your nightstand. Its his kindness even in distress that never failed to touch him. He used both the tablets and the cream, anything to make sure he would get a least a few hours of sleep. James, stumbles, there is no other was to describe his unsteady, tiered steps out of the bathroom, just as he had settled down under the covers. He rested the temptation to help him, once injured independence became a carefully guarded treasure. Instead he just lifted his covers inviting him in. He hesitated  slowly crawling under the bedding, scooting closer inch by inch, as though he was only now realizing how close they had been. Cuddling here, in his bed, was different from hugging on the pitch. It was intimate, and as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t pretend it felt strictly platonic. Despite this James settled against his chest, hiding his face against his shoulder. He was never good with silences, usually he just eded up rambling pointlessly to avoid them but right now he restrained him self and just focused on stroking his back, strictly above  his T-shirt.

James would talk if he needed to. „Eighty million…wasted…you could…save a lot of rainforest with that“ His bitterness, that sharp, cold edge in his voice had him struggling for an answer. He shouldn’t hurt like this, it wasn’t right.  „Like..I wanted to do well, i just want to be good enough, to give back, because really I hardly deserve to be in the team as it is…and now I fucked up again…“ But James was hurting so much so that he sought release in blaming himself, because  even causing himself more pain was better than accepting that all it took was a stroke of bad luck. The fragility was the truly frighting part. „James you’re not a disappointment, or a waste of anything, you belong here…“ If only he could make him believe that, but James sunny disposition hid his insecurities so well that it was easy to forget they existed. „But I…I’ll be out for month..and I probably won't be good coming back either..“ Gently but insistently he grabbed James by the neck and turned his face. Of course he was still fighting against the tears, his usually soft features hardened by the struggle.

„You didn’t do anything wrong, nothing, okay? None of this is your fault, it happens, I know that isn’t comforting but blaming yourself solves nothing. You’ve more than earned your place here already and you will be even greater when you come back, you know why? Because you will work just as hard and dedicated at getting better as you do know, you’ll fight and beat this, I…well everyone will be there to cheer you on…And those people saying you aren’t good enough? Fuck them…Bloody eejits thats what they are“ He has never been particularly good at motivational speeches, thats more Ikers thing but his Gareth impression got him an almost grin. „Eeejit?!“ James giggles, ridiculous how much his heart skipped at that sound. However his laughter almost seamlessly turns into chokes, like he lost control for a second too long and was now unable to reign his emotions back in. „I am just…fuck…I am just so scared“ He knew that, hell he would be frightened enough to hide under his bed in his place, hearing him say it, tears streaming down his face, voice small, makes it hard to breath. He didn’t have a comforting answer to this, he wasn’t even sure it existed so he just pulled him back into his arms. Trying to tell him wordlessly that it was okay to cry, to be sad, angry and yes afraid but that he would get through this. He himself would make sure, James would even if he had to carry, hell drag him some of the way. „I’ll be there I promise..“ It feels like so little, like a promise so feeble its hardly worth saying out loud. James still snuggles closer at your words, sobs racking his body. He just held him occasionally pressing a soft kiss behind his ear, until his breath slowed down, his sniffs became infrequent and exhaustion took over. He felt himself drifting off while trying to keep his eyes open so he could watch him sleep. 

 

 

                                                                                              ******

 

It was sometime near daybreak when the pain woke him up. His foot felt like it hat swollen up to the size of a small mountain. It was only a  weak comfort to see that it hadn’t. He could just reach over and take some painkillers but as strange as that sounded he felt comforted by the physical pain, it was easier to just focus on that. It would pass. If only he was braver. Stronger. Better. Plenty of played at returned from worse injuries, if everything went to plan he would only miss two months. That wasn’t so bad, he might even get some minutes before the season was over. It was just so so hard to believe in all that, he wanted to fight and be positive but it felt like he lacked the strength to fight against all that fucking fear. Carefully, so he wouldn’t wake him, he snuggled closer against Sergio. Seeking comfort in his  solid warmth. He felt tears sliding down his cheeks again but didn’t care, yes he felt small, weak and stupid but he wasn’t alone. Sergio was here and he would continue to be there, to  hold him just like he promised. It hurt. It was unfair. But it would all be okay again.

**Author's Note:**

> I know Eejit, is a very irish thing and probably not something Gareth   
> regularly says but it just fitted so well, I couldn't resist ;-)


End file.
